


Dragon Waltz

by spirallings



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6612769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirallings/pseuds/spirallings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marshal Takeda Shingen wants Lieutenant Date Masamune to pick a new Drift Compatible partner to pilot his Jaeger. Masamune is less than compliant.</p><p>Until a rookie with fiery brown eyes challenges him to a duel.</p><p>(2013 Repost)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon Waltz

The next candidate slammed against the mat, thrown across the room like a bag of potatoes, and Masamune yawned in boredom. Laying the practice staff against his shoulders, tapping against his shoulder blade once or twice, a piercing blue locked onto Takeda Shingen, unimpressed.  
  
The corner of his lip curled.  
  
“ _These_  are your best candidates, old man?  **Ridiculous**.”  
  
Takeda’s dark eyes hardened and the crowd of crewmen and candidates shifted as the training room grew tense and uncomfortable. Masamune clicked his tongue, scoffing.  
  
Not a single one of these idiots could even come close to Kojuro.  
  
Where his right eye was supposed to be throbbed in a phantom-like pain and Masamune rolled his shoulders. He hadn’t even started to break a sweat yet. This was just tedious.  
  
“Unless you’ve got someone else that can actually keep up with me, I’m leavin’.”  
  
A nap was starting to sound really appealing.  
  
Tossing the staff behind him onto the mat, Masamune started to walk off to grab his boots and head off to his room. By the boom of Takeda’s voice, the Marshal was most certainly not pleased.  
  
“Lieutenant Date–”  
  
“Told ya, already. Call me back when you’ve got someone good enough to Drift with me,” he drawled lazily, not bothering to look back at the older man.  
  
Unlikely.  
  
Date Masamune didn’t want a new partner. He’d had a good one, the best one, he’d rather go it alone than get some idiot for a partner. No one could compare to him and the bitter taste of loss was still in his mouth.  
  
Giving another yawn and a rub at the back of his head, Masamune started to walk out the door.  
  
“Then I will take you up on that challenge, Date-dono.”  
  
Masamune froze.  
  
“ _Haaah?_ ”  
  
Disbelieving scowl on his face, teeth snarling, Masamune turned on his heel to look back around at where the voice (loud, confident) came from.  
  
Next to the Marshal and his monkey assistant was a young man who couldn’t have been less than a few years younger than him that Masamune had never seen before. Long, messy brown hair tied back, a few inches shorter in height, skin a healthy tan. A boy made for the sun. An expressive face that revealed any and all emotion with no shame.  
  
And brown eyes blazing with fire and determination, jaws and lips set.  
  
Something about  _those eyes_  set off some kind of spark in his chest, a lightning bolt, and a toothy grin grew on Masamune’s lips.  
  
He gave a low whistle.  
  
“ _Oho_. Where’ve you been hidin’ this one all this time, old man? He’s a confident brat, ain’t he.”  
  
Those brown, brown eyes positively blazed at the mocking and Masamune’s smirk grew wider, egging him on.  
  
Sarutobi, the monkey assistant as Masamune dubbed him, looked amused and Takeda looked the most disturbed that anyone’d ever seen (the one-eyed male wasn’t paying him any attention, eye locked on those brown ones that glared back without flinching).  
  
A hard, stormy cloud grew on Takeda’s face as he turned to the brown-haired male in a hushed tone, “Yukimura, I’ve told you a  _thousand times–_ ”  
  
The owner of those brown eyes looked back at the Marshal (making Masamune ‘tsk’ in irritation at being ignored), and his brows furrowed in plea.  
  
“Sir! Please! You know that I’m good enough!”  
  
“ _That is not the point here, Yukimura–_ ”  
  
“Marshal,” Sarutobi cut in, holding back an amused grin, “there’s no one else here able to keep up with Lieutenant Date that’s not already Drift Compatible with someone else. And you are fully aware of how stubborn our Lieutenant Sanada can be. You might as well, just to see.”  
  
Masamune would swear to hell and back on the Kaiju that ‘Sanada’ fucking  _ **sparkled**_  at the monkey in appreciation for his logical defense. He waited impatiently as the Marshal closed his mouth and clenched his jaw, thinking it over and trying not to look at the insistent expression on the brunette’s face. After what felt like ages, Takeda finally gave a sigh and turned to face Masamune, face cloudy, dark and more grumpy than usual. Quite a feat, in Masamune’s opinion.  
  
“Very well,” the Marshal said grudgingly. The way that ‘Sanada’ was beaming at him in rejoice only made the Marshal crankier as he glared at Masamune.  
  
“The next match to determine who Lieutenant Date Masamune’s new Drift Parter will be against Lieutenant Sanada Yukimura.”  
  
A wide smirk of amusement was growing on Masamune’s lips as he stepped back onto the mat, grabbing the staff again. A hushed murmur was making its way through the observing crowd and unworthy candidates that the one-eyed male ignored.  
  
His eye was on the long-haired brunette as Sanada took off his boots and the jacket of his uniform. What Masamune thought to be lean and thin underneath those bulky clothes was revealed to be a rather toned and lithe body, the muscles on his arms moving with every gesture as Sanada wrenched his jacket off and let it fall to the floor. His tank top was form-fitting and Masamune could see the firm muscles on his stomach and torso with each movement.  
  
It only excited him further when Sanada picked up the staff and walked onto the mat, barefoot, lips in a tight, determined line as he got into position. His eyes never left Masamune’s.  
  
Sharp-toothed grin present, Masamune shifted his legs into position, grip tight on the staff.  
  
“The match will be as follows,” Takeda boomed, eyes locked on the pair. “The first to land four ‘kills’ will be the winner.”  
  
Brown eyes flared and a single blue one sharpened.  
  
“Ready, and…”  
  
Feet and legs shifted into position. Grips tightened. Eyes gleamed.  
  
“ _Start!_ ”  
  
No one could tell who charged first. It happened too fast.  
  
Masamune slammed his staff into the brunette’s with maximum force, but was met with equal force as Sanada pushed back against him, twisting his arms and body to slam back into Masamune’s. The one-eyed male gave a low whistle to himself and grinned widely. Most of his ‘candidates’ fell flat on their faces within a minute or two. Impressive.  
  
But not impressive enough.  
  
Sanada didn’t step out of the way fast enough, and Masamune took his chance, swinging until the edge of the staff was at the brunette’s neck.  
  
He smirked.  
  
“One to zero.” He breathed a laugh at the infuriated look on the brunette’s face as he stepped back, getting ready again. “Gonna have to do better than that,  _Red_.”  
  
Sanada glared and got back into position, waiting for the signal to start.  
  
Once the order was given, Sanada charged first, and Masamune was met with a flurry of heated quick attacks. Although Masamune managed to press back against them all as they came, he couldn’t help but imagine what kind of damage this kid could do if he had two staffs instead of one with all this power behind it. Those eyes were locked on him and flaring with fire and Masamune ate it up.  
  
That fire became a distraction and with so many hits coming his way, Masamune felt his opponent’s staff press against his chest. His teeth ground and the brunette grinned.  
  
“One to one, Date-dono.”  
 _  
This little shit…_  
  
Grin taking a sharp edge, Masamune took a step back into position, taking a mental note to not underestimate this kid further.  
  
He turned out to be right.  
  
Where many soldiers and citizens alike thought Date Masamune to be reminiscent of a dragon as he fought in the Jaeger and outside the unit, he likened Sanada Yukimura to a tiger as the brunette slammed him against the ground, winning his third kill, damp bangs sticking to his forehead as he breathed heavily.  
  
It was obvious that he was inexperienced; it’d been years since Masamune last stepped foot in a Jaeger, but news traveled fast even in this fucked up world and he’d never heard of this kid before. But despite that lack of experience, there was so much force, power and fire behind each of his movements and the blazing of those fiery brown eyes that the one-eyed male just knew that this guy was worth something. Masamune wanted to punch Takeda for hiding this kid for so long, and he made a note to do so as he flipped Sanada to the mat.  
  
He couldn’t recall the last time he’d ever felt so  _alive_.  
  
By the time that both staffs were against each other’s throats, breathing heavy, low and hoarse as sweat dripped down the sides of their faces, Masamune knew his decision.  
  
He was on his back and Sanada was straddling him by his hips, their faces close together as they each held their respective staffs to each other’s necks, Masamune’s leg locked around the brunette’s thigh, ready to fling him off at any moment, but it remained still. Even as Masamune felt long strands of brown hair tickling his face and breathing heavily for air, his sharp-toothed grin was still on his face.  
  
The brunette on top of him was gasping for breath and Masamune saw a trickle of sweat slide down the side of his neck out of the corner of his eye, but he saw that the corners of Sanada’s mouth were quirked upward. The feeling was mutual.  
  
Sarutobi’s voice announcing the end of the match was faint, annoying background noise to Masamune, eye still locked on brown.  
  
“This match ends in a four to four tie!”  
  
There was a small note of disbelief in the monkey’s tone that Masamune would’ve caught if he’d been paying attention.  
  
Sanada made to move off of Masamune, pulling the staff away as he lifted his lower body off of the older male’s hips, but the one-eyed male felt like playing with him for just one more moment (when was the last time he’d felt like that?). So, using the leg that was still locked around Sanada’s thigh he flipped him over so that he was the one with his back against the mat.  
  
From his place, Takeda glowered at Masamune while the one-eyed male smirked wickedly at the outraged, flushed expression on Sanada’s face. The brunette struggled underneath him but Masamune refused the budge.  
  
“Date-dono! The match has been decided already! Please get off of me!”  
  
Oho, polite even when he’s getting angry and flat against his back on the ground, face flushed with exhaustion and embarrassment. He could get used to this.  
  
But that would have to wait for later, especially when he had a tiger pinned down underneath him that looked ready to claw at his face.  
  
Giving a wide grin and a short laugh, Masamune moved off of him, laughing even more at the indignant look on Sanada’s face.  
  
“ **All right** , don’t get your panties all in a twist, **Red**.”  
  
Sanada’s face burned and his nostrils flared as he lifted himself up.  
  
“I have a name, Date-dono,” he said stiffly.  
  
Masamune just grinned and gave another laugh.  
  
“Guess I’ll just have to get used to that,” there was hint of teasing in his tone that made the brunette flush a bit more in embarrassment, “Sanada Yukimura.”  
  
And to Sanada Yukimura’s surprise, he held out a hand to pull him up with. The brunette stared at the hand in surprise and blinked. His brown eyes lifted up to Masamune’s face, seeing a grin sent back down at him. His gaze lowered to the calloused hand in front of him.  
  
After just a moment of hesitation, he grabbed the offered hand and let himself be pulled up.  
  
A tingle like a lightning bolt ran up Masamune’s arm and something within him, something that was scabbed, bleeding and bruised, was soothed ever so slightly.  
  
His grin widened and once Yukimura was up, he let go. Then he turned to the aggravated Marshal, smirk smug and wide.  
  
“Oi, old man,” he drawled. “Looks like I’ve got myself a new Drift Partner.”


End file.
